


¿cliche?

by Drabblesmostly



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Chaptered, Fights, Gay, How Do I Tag, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Some Plot, Violence, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2020-09-30 10:03:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20445329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drabblesmostly/pseuds/Drabblesmostly
Summary: Just porn w/o plot ? Mostly





	1. Seashell hair

_"Where's your Gryffindor bravery now?"_

His breath was hot against Harry's ear, ragged breathing felt as he moved to bite the spot below. His chest pressed flush against Harry's own, pinning him in place equally as much his hips did.

Their bodies were radiating heat, too many clothes, too many layers, not enough skin-Harry couldnt think straight.

Slender pale hands, illuminated by the sliver of moon, seemed to share the same thoughts. They ripped impatiently at their robes, the thin material cascading down sweat riddled bodies, until they pooled into one puddle at the ground. Pants didnt quite join, only being pushed as far as their calves before needy crotches pressed together in their nakedness.

There were no words, only hands gripping and pumping, sliding precum down both of their lengths.

Harry clutched at the others clothed back with one strained hand, his head firmly back against the cold stone wall-plumped bottom lip bitten in pleasurable agony to stay quiet. His neck was dusted with deep red marks and the outline of sunken in teeth that only stayed a moment, leaving with an apologetic lap of hot tongue.

His knee itched to bend, giving in with satisfaction to curl itself around slender, bare hips. A hot hand ghosted over his thigh, aimingly seeking to follow its curve to a needed destination. Cold wetness laid in its wake. It bent around until Harry felt precum slicked fingers circling the ring of muscles that lie in path.

He shifted his hip to press down, an animalistic instinct, a deep desire and want for _more_, for release. The idea was unspoken but loud, and digits pressed past the offending barrier to bury themselves deep.

The other dutiful hand gripped around their cocks, a promise for more. A direction to wait. Harry keened at the pleasure inside of him as the foreign fingers curl and part. A whispered stinging of being stretched washed over in waves of, _yes, please, yes._

It builds up for what feels like forever, but only a minute, before evacuating and leaving him barren and wanting.  
His pleads were answered with a raise of his hips, his only grounded leg lifting from its security as a strong hand guides what he needs.

And it presses in slowly, an undeniable burst of pleasure and pain only a masochist would coo at. He's seated faster than Harry thought to be, both hands curling into seashell colored hair, bleached by the sun.

And then he began moving, slow rocking in and out, like no other sensation Harry's ever felt. It has rhythm and is complimented with small gasps and whimpers at each sheath. His nails undoubtedly would have left numbered crescent moons along his skin, a reminder, had he not decided on the locks of white.

And the counted rolling assault sped up, until it was a sinful symphony of hips bruisingly slamming together into the wall, a chorus of cried out delight all set to the growing speed.

It grew with earnest, with the covet of finishing, of reaching the thrill and bliss of final release.

And when it came crashing into them, splashes of hot cum coated their hands and stomachs, messily running. Hips would stutter, opposing thighs shaking as the aftermath was soothingly rode out until all there was left was to slump against the wall.  
And wake up to _tempus_.

And Harry sat up in his bed fast enough to daze, waving away the intruding alarm. He fished out his wand and in a single move, cleaned up the mess that lie under his pants.

His cheeks were still hot, heart pumping in drastic numbers in the frantic aftermath of the real happenings. He swallowed thickly and cast away the curtains to his bed, getting ready for class as the cycle goes.


	2. Look me in the eye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry has trouble, and Draco is the saviour?

Eating breakfast in a normal haze was part of the routine. Hermione often would bat at him, assuming his dreary state was due to a lack of sleep, and remind him again to rest at a normal hour. In a way she was correct, he wasn't getting as much sleep as he should.

Because everytime he closed his eyes, the Slytherin was there, living out fantasies Harry never knew he had. Especially with Draco Malfoy.  
It begun shortly after their beginning of 8th year. The tall blonde was really doing well with himself. He was fit before, but now..

He was a bit less uptight about some things, such as wearing fancy robes on the weekends. He just went for a muggle suit, which, in a muggles eyes, is still uptight. But Draco was a pureblood. And damn, did Harry love a man in a suit.  
He also seemed subjected to not having any grudges this year. He'd said that it was wasted and misdirected energy that he doesnt have time for anymore. He still sounded like a posh prat, and they're not friends, but. But, what?  
Well, Harry found it hard to go weeks and months much less days without the Slytherins attention on him. Maybe the dreams gave insight on why.

He shook his head, he didn't mean to think of them now. Rather, he remembered that fateful first day back.

_Draco Malfoy approached the golden trio with his perfect posture and unemotional, passive face. He simply looked over them as they uneasily waited for a reason to be interrupted._   
_ First, he turned to Hermione, just a tad._   
_ "Granger, I apologize for any words and actions I used that may have caused you any distress, physical or mental. Truly. I don't want anything, I just wanted to show my upmost regret and tell you it will not continue."_

_She was stunned. Then he turned to Harry, hesitantly. He didnt even look him in the eyes._   
_ "..Potter, the same to you, especially. Let's let the schoolboy rivalry and everything from or around it die along with the war, shall we?" He had quirked a brow, looking at the darker male towards the end of his requests. After Harry nodded dumbly, Draco turned to Ron._

_"..Weasley." he simply said with a small nod. He turned and left the trio, simple as that._

_Ron considered his the biggest win. When Harry had objected that it was just his last name, the ginger pointedly reminded them that Draco would call him "weasel," before_.

His thinking back apparently lasted longer than expected, as Hermione and Ron stood to gather their things for class. Their movement phased Harry from his recollection. He looked up at the two and said he'd see them in the classes they shared together, as he wanted to finish eating. They said their goodbyes as they parted, and when Harry turned back to face the table, he somehow, unluckily, caught the Malfoys eye.

Harry made quick, clumsy work to busy himself to look away nonchalantly. He settled on eating, and overlooking a paper he was turning into his first period. As he fumbled with his juice, trying to avoid looking back up, he tipped. the cup. Over. Onto his essay.

He made a decent scene of freaking out and releasing noises of distress as he tried to salavge the paper. His lack of sleep and current mortified nature seemed to make him forget he could easily cast a spell. A bout of white hitting his paper, then the juice being gone and paper unharmed made him stop and think.  
Oh, right. Thank Gods, honestly.  
Wait, who did that?

He furrowed his eyebrows and looked up, barely catching a glimpse of Draco tucking his wand back into his robes as Pansy Parkinson and a few other slytherins lose their shit at the scene. He tried to catch the others eye, to offer a smile of gratitude at least, but Draco made it clear he wouldnt be looking over. His entire body faced his mates as he idly chatted.

Harry puffed his cheeks and shook his head, anyhow. It was just an act of pity or kindness. Maybe it wasn't even Draco. He shouldn't be trying to get the others attention either way, he reminds himself. So the Gryffindor shouldered his bag and gathered up his things for class. Everyone else was headed out the hall and towards class, including Dracos small possy of friends he kept. Pansy was the only one Harry could name by glance, but a few orhers were familiar.

They ended up, unfortunately, walking to class behind Harry. If he slowed down to allow them to pass, it'd be obvious, and awkward, seeing as Harry was already slow, them eaually so much. But if he were to speed up, would it be obvious? He cursed his luck and just tried to keep himself from eavesdropping, but then Draco chuckled a little at whatever was said, and the coo of his voice, giving comment, made Harrys ears listen intently.

"Well isn't that rather prude,"  
And the rest of the group burst out in playfully mad comments, rustlikg like they were shoving him as he chuckled. Harry was suddenly curious as what they had been talking about, because of Dracos comment, and how everyone seemed to be used to such phrases.  
"What!" He laughed breathily, "you honestly expect me not to mention? Merlin, all of you really need to get laid."

Harry's body decided to go into shutdown mode, at that. He tensed up in place with a jolt of '_i did not just hear that spoiled prat say such a thing.'_  
Malfoys group simply chuckled awkwardly and parted around Harry standing stock still. They turned into their class, and Harry swears on his own grave that Draco Malfoy smirked at him. Like he knew why Harry stopped in place. Like he'd seen into his dreams and knew what the smirk would do to him.

And then the bell rang, and Draco instead looked at the professor. And Harry was late. He quickly bolted to his classroom a few rooms away, took his seat and smiled nervously as his house had points docked.  
The day was off to a rocky, confusing start.

His first bells went good, after he forced the thoughts from his mind and made himself focus. Lunch was an agonizing game of, _he's always smirking, youre not special, and do I look at him on purpose? What do i do if we make eye contact again? Oh my god, I have a school girl crush._  
And the rest of his classes went the same as his mornings.  
By his last class period, he was just waiting to go back to his dorm. Hopefully get in a wanking sess.

Maybe in the shower? Thank Merlin, he was given allowance to use the prefects bathroom this year. There was just too many possibilities due to his fans already screaming over him the first day. It was a precaution more than anything. So far, Harry had no problem with the prefects bathroom. He actually hadnt had the misfortune of meeting any of the prefects or anyone else in there. Though it was still early on.

He settled on this plan and went towards the large bathroom, opening the door widely and stepping in a couple feet. He'd just let the door fall closed on its own, as usual. Except, it didnt slam heavily as it always did, this time. He furrowed his eyebrows, maybe he had missed it? Grown accustomed to the sound? He turned around to find a hand pushing between the door and its frame, barely catching a way in.  
Oh, just a prefect that has horrid timing? He turned around to explain that he was allowed to be in here to whomever it was, as the door was pushed open.

Only, there were three of them, and they looked rather angry. Harry instinctively took a step back and drew his wand.  
The first male, with black hair, surged forward after shooting Harrys wand from his hand. The second, a big guy, aided him, and the third, a tanned blonde, quickly shut the door.

Number one and two each gripped one of Harrys arms tightly, so that despite his thrashes and attempts to pull away, he was stuck. The blonde stalked towards Harry as if he'd kissed his mum, making the Gryffindor wonder if humans could growl, because if so, this guy definitely would be.

And Harry waits for a reasoning. Some sob story on how Harry ruined this mans life. He looks up at the wizard expectantly, but found that there didnt seem to be a reason. There was no sadness or grief in the mans eyes, only pure madness. As if he thought that beating up some A List Public Figure would get him something.

The first punch is into Harrys stomach, causing him to groan out and close his eyes, missing the next hit to his cheekbone. He simply growled and lifted his head back upright, trying to rip away from dumbass one and two to come at the other guy.

"You're not strong! You need me held back to get in a few punches? For what?! For fame? The ability to say you beat up H-"  
He was cut off with a knee ramming into his stomach and ribs, pushing the air from his lungs most unpleasantly.

Luckily his shouting didn't go unheard, as the door was slammed open a few knee hits in. His saviour was unseen, as one and two decided they could finish the job as their third handled whoever walked in.

He vaguely heard a few hexes cast and maybe a few punches as he was bashed mostly in the stomach by the two. The bigger guy definitely packed a punch, but the other wasnt as strong, only having able to hold Harry in place with both his arms initially.

The spectacle seemed to attract more, as a professor pushed through and dragged both boys off of Harry. Harry promptly landed on his ass, panting and trying to pieve together the scene. He managed a weak chuckle as they were being pulled by the ear out of the room, their third being escorted angrily. He looked from the men who attacked to whoever came in to help, eyes landing on a pale hand offering to help him up, and trailing to. To Malfoy.

He gulped and took the offered help after a few moments, grunting in pain. Harry held his stomach as he stood on his own, his hand falling from the others. Draco cleared his throat slightly as he thinks of how to reply.

"Thank you," he managed.

Draco looked about to reply, after taking a long look at the beginning of a bruise and split cheekbone. He'd opened his mouth to speak before Ron and Hermione rushed into the open doorway. They looked at Draco accusedly, as if their first thought was that it was gim who attacked Harry.

"No-he helped-the guys are already gone-" Harry explained quickly.

Their expressions softened but the air was still a bit tense. From the fight, and the suspected.

"Let's get you to the nurse, mate." Ron said finally, moving forward and wrapping Harrys arm around his shoulder.

He winced and pulled his arm away. "No, it's alright. Mostly just stomach hits. Nothing a healing spell wont fix."

Ron frowned for a moment before nodding. "Well, alright..Do you want to go to the common room or our dorm? I can sit with you."

Harry thought for a moment beforr juse shaking his head. "I'll be alright. They were just some punks. I'm gonna shower like I planned to."

"You shower in here?" Draco rose an eyebrow, before biting his tongue at the small outburst.

"Er, yeah," Harry scratched the back of his neck.

"So the fangirls-" Hermione began,  
"Or boys," Ron cut in,

Harry huffed slightly. "So shit like that and peepers dont bother me."

"Huh," Draco nods. "I must always miss you. I shower in here. Less for fans, more for shit like that."

There was a small hush as Harry nods a bit. "Right, I guess so."

Everyone stood awkwardly for a few momente, not sure how to disperse the situation.  
"Right, mate, we ought to go back to our stuff in the library if youre sure. We'll be there if you want to join after." The ginger offered.

"Alright, I might." He offered a smile back to them and they left after Hermione gave him a gentle hug, and told him to visit the nurse if a healing spell doesnt cover it.

That left him with Draco, which they were painfully aware of after the two had gone. They exchanged small glances at one another, looking away before Harry spoke up.

"What were you going to say before they..?"

"I dont remember," Draco said quickly, wavering towards the door.  
"Do you want me to heal you..?"

Harry was albeit suprised by the proposal, but nodded before he could think it over. He watched Draco draw his wand, finding amusement in his lack of fear at the action, for a change. Draco cast it successfully, of course. It felt good, obviously, because it no longer hurt. But he was also painstakingly aware that Draco Malfoys magic was coursing through him, if only for a moment.

He couldnt help the small flush that flooded his cheeks. Draco carefully puts his wand away, looking as if he wanted to continue a conversation, somehow. He appeared to deter from the idea, shaking his head.  
"Right, well." He stood straight, "I'll let you..shower."

Harry nodded, watching the other turn. "Wait, Malfoy," and then move to face Harry again.  
'_Want to join?'_  
_ 'You should stay.'_  
_ 'You can watch.'_  
"..thanks.." he managed hoarsely, again.

Draco chuckled, with that stupid smirk Harry swore was reserved just for him, almost mockingly like he knew what went through the Gryffindors head.

"Why do you do that?" Harry blurted out.  
Draco seemed just as caught off guard as Harry was.  
"You keep smirking at me. And you cleaned my juice this morning."

Malfoy casts his eyes away, before looking at Harry with half lidded ones, smirk curling back up. "Don't pretend you don't know."

"I-what?"

"I see things too, Potter," he put simply. "You may notice a few smirks, but do you know what I see?"

He leaned closer, seeming to tower over Harry, even if he was only a few inches taller.

"I see your constant glances, like you want to stare but know you shouldnt," he was nearly whispering the words his voice a low rumble, seeming more confident when Harry didnt pull away from the stance. His hand trailed up slowly, tracing Harrys cheekbone with his thumb.

"The way you never look at me in the mornings..do you do sinful things the night before? So dirty you cant look me in the eye, hours later? Oh, and how you stopped rigid in the hall this morning..that was simply delectable, seeing you flustered. Id truly like to see it more often."

He hums softly as he cups Harry's cheek, moving forward so close, his breath brushes over Harrys cheek and he's sure they're to kiss as he stares up at the other. But alas, Draco moves aside kissing dirtily underneath his jaw before moving up go whisper in his ear.  
"Well, have a nice shower, Potter."

And the sensations leave him, every warm spot that was Dracos touch was left hissingly cold, unfair to the traitor who left unspoken yet empty promises. He'd simply turned on his heel and left, leaving Harry to only question if it'd really happened.


End file.
